


The King of Competitions

by Chrysilix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Kim appreciation week, My little dorky-jock son finally gets some love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysilix/pseuds/Chrysilix
Summary: Happy Kim appreciation week!! Each chapter is a prompt on why he deserves more screen time 'cause let's be real, Kim is a very underrated character.





	1. Day 1: Race

“Are you sure you wanna do this, dude? I _am_ very fast.” 

Adrien dropped the leg he was stretching to smile in Kim’s direction. “I know.” He moved to situate himself next to the stadium soccer post—the ‘lane’ (Rose and Juleka set witches hats to make paths) Max assigned him in. “But what’s the harm in a friendly race? I didn’t have anything scheduled today anyway, and I haven’t had time to hang out with a friend in a while.” 

Kim dropped his smug grin to shoot the blond a confused glance. Compared to former opponents (cough, Alix), Adrien didn’t seem that… well, _competitive_ —nor the trash-talking type. In fact, he was still beaming at the few classmates gathered to his side who were cheering their names. 

Didn’t he understand that this was a _race_? He even used the phrase, ‘hang out’. Racing wasn’t ‘hanging out’—A _race_ was a gruesome battle between specimens performed with the intention of intensity and feuding! Adrien acted so nonchalant it perturbed him. 

Kim decided it was either a manipulation technique to mess with his head before they took off (Adrien was too suspicious for his liking. He always seemed to be hiding ‘something’ behind that model smile, so brain games wouldn’t be surprising), or it was a coping mechanism to help him deal when he lost. Since, you know, Kim _was_ an extreme athlete, and he made sure everyone knew it. Either way, he wasn’t going to let anything faze him. 

When Kim approached Adrien in gym after an impressive game of basketball with the proposal of a race, he was surprised when he actually agreed. Usually, whenever Kim put the word ‘race’ in a sentence, people turned him down before the offer was even finished. 

He was thankful Adrien was there at all, even if he didn’t take it as seriously. 

Max stood between their respective lanes and began to review the rules Kim was already familiar with. He saw their small audience listening in a huddle from the grass. Marinette was holding a banner reading, ‘ _go Adrien_!’ (Seriously, did she  _ever_ cheer for Kim?), while Alya was filming with Nino by her side, and few other students were behind them. 

“…The first one to lap the field and pass me is declared the victor! On your marks…” 

The words made him snap from his stupor faster than he could run. He crouched on a knee with the other foot firmed, and his fingers found the grass for stabilisation. From his point, he could see Adrien in an identical position next to him, the air of determination in his eyes. 

Maybe he was taking it seriously. 

"Get set…” 

The adrenaline kicked. His butt shot up in the air and he leant forward so much he almost fell. Adrien—seated in the corner of his eye—was somewhat emulating the pose, minus the sharp arch, and his hands dug at the ground more. His position, Kim noticed, had hardly changed. 

Then, Kim caught something that had _definitely_ changed. 

 _Is that…?_  

Adrien’s eyes—they weren’t his. 

Whatever happened to them—and he hoped to all force that his split second glance proved wrong—wasn’t humanly normal. 

 _Does Adrien have… slit irises?_  

“Go!” 

They both bolted. 

The confusion was tossed behind him as Kim accelerated into his acquainted sprint, but only to catch another horrific sight of a body speeding ahead. 

And Kim almost _fainted_. 

The culprit of the audience’s sudden deadening quiet and Kim’s verging face-plant wasn’t because of Adrien’s lead against the class-jock… 

It was the sight of the blond’s _run_ as soon as the race was declared. 

At ‘ _On your marks_ ’, Adrien was crouched on his hands; bent knees distanced from the ground and toes coiled as he raised himself. 

At ‘ _Get set_ ’, his pose had hardly morphed despite hands retaining a tighter grip in the ground and stamina elevated. 

And weirdest of all—the gruesomely unnerving sight that numbed the entire stadium—was as soon as Max slipped out, ‘ _Go_!’, it _still_ had not changed. 

As in, Adrien wasn’t just _running_. 

But he was running _with_ his animalistic position. 

Like, **_with his hands._**  

Crouched. Gripping the ground as he _leapt_. 

And he was a _bullet_. 

Kim gaped, gasped, and choked on air while his body helpfully took over his malfunctioned brain so he could keep running (as demented as it looked). His half-death sounds were the only noises stolen over the premise while Adrien— 

While Adrien— 

… 

 _What_ **was** _Adrien doing?!_  

Why—just _why_ was he running around the stadium like a _cat_? 

He was winning. _Boy_ was he winning. 

Kim had tripped from the sight of Adrien three times so _of course_ he was winning. 

By the time the race ended Kim hadn’t even reached the halfway mark. Instead, he slowed to a stop and cut the centre of the field to ~~stumble drunkenly~~ walk back. 

And from then on, everyone just _stared_. 

At Adrien. 

‘Slowly-realising-what-he-just-did puff-and-sweat-free’ Adrien. 

“Oh.” His once slit-eyes dilated back to their normal state. “ _Oh_.” 

Kim pushed past the crowd starting to gather around Adrien with questions, looming over him to bellow a respective, “ _WHAT WAS THAT_?!” 

Adrien repeated the words in his mind. What _was_ that? _Why_ had he done it? He faltered at Kim’s imposing stare and stepped backwards, opting to blurt the first thing that came to mind before more people demanded answers. 

“…I went fast!” 

A beat. 

Kim squinted his eyes and shook his head. “Wh—” His brows quirked in confusion. “Wh— _What_?!” 

“I went fast. I won. I—” Adrien glanced around in panic, only to meet the stares of stoned classmates that did wonders for his impromptu speech, “—I figured out I can go faster doing that!” 

Kim—still as lost as ever—opened his mouth to say _something_ , but failed in finding words appropriate for response and ended gaping like a fish again. 

He was thankful for Nino bringing him back to reality. 

“ _Dude_!” Everyone turned their heads to the boy slapping a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “ _How_ did you do that? That was so cool! You went so fast!” 

Adrien released a breath of relief. 

… 

The stiffened atmosphere relaxed and everyone broke from their frozen state around Adrien. His classmates continued the moment by questioning his ‘superpower’ with inquiries like, “ _How long did it take you to master it?_ ” and, “ _Do your hands hurt afterwards_?”, to which were answered with nervous gestures attached. 

Marinette was swooning at the back of the group next to Alya, rambling on about how, _“He’s so smart he even invented a way to be faster!”_ and so forth, while Alya rolled her eyes and nodded, deciding it was best not to bring up that he probably got it from Chat Noir (since the girl had a weird thing against associating the two blonds). 

Only one classmate hadn’t comprehended any of it. 

Kim, standing paralyzed on the track, was _still_ just staring at the group unable to make sense of the situation as everyone gushed to and on about Adrien. 

“Did _no one_ else think that was the weirdest thing they’ve ever seen?”


	2. Hero/Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim and Alix help set up Adrien and Marinette, thinking they're doing all the work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of my random story Oblivious. Now Kim and Alix decide to be 'shipping superheroes' at school. In other words, I had no idea what else to do for this prompt.

Three pints of ginger beer from the Kubdel’s pantry, a shambolically filled-up notebook of ideas and two exhausted teens lying on a pile of skater gear later and Alix and Kim were finished their game plan.

Unlike Alya and Marinette’s complicated ‘Operation: Secret Garden’-type schemes to make ‘Adrinette’ happen, the pair opted for creating a plan most defiantly quick and easy—that they were sure was going to work by the end of the day—as both had had enough viewing of slow-burn to last them a lifetime.

“Our class is going to love us,” Kim during his sleepy drowse murmured to the wearied pile before him. After discussing few ideas at Max’s the previous day, their scheming expanded into a sleepover (with zero sleeping) at Alix’s. “I told you this ‘shipping-superheroes’ idea was a good one.”

Her half-lidded eyes blinked up at him behind pink tuffs. “I still think the ‘superhero’ thing is a weird a title.”

The hoarseness whirring in her voice was so clear Kim would’ve mocked her about it if not his own voice were identical. “It’s the biggest ‘heroic’ thing we’ll ever do for our class, so let me have this.”

Alix closed her eyes and hummed in response.

…

The pair were so beat the following Monday morning that the commotion of the latest akuma attack was a mere buzz in their ears.

Kim only caught something about, ‘Gabriel akumatized again’, ‘Carapace, Queen Bee and Rena Rouge joining’, ‘LB and Chat leaving halfway to come back blushing messes’, and that the battle was ‘really long’.

At least whatever happened during the disastrous battle wasn’t going to affect their success in setting up Marinette and Adrien.

“You’re on phase one, remember?”

Alix couldn’t care less about yesterday’s kerfuffle if it distracted her from her task at hand. She’d waited enough months taking part in pointless operations that she wasn’t going to allow one bigger-than-normal akuma delay her plan, especially when her eyes fell like falling out from exhaust and arteries to burst from ginger beer over-consumption.

“Um, yeah.” Kim peered around the classroom to see Adrien slumped in his desk and without his usual bright smile. Only Alya was seated behind him. “I don’t think Marinette’s arrived yet, though.”

Alix planted her fists in the curves of her waist and glared at the class president’s vacant desk. “I’m astonished.”

“Do you think I should wait a bit, too? Adrien looks sorta out of it.”

She shot him a _look_ that said her answer enough for him. “I’m not waiting any longer for the oblivious punks to make-out. Phase one happens as soon as Marinette walks through that door.”

Kim turned to scrutinise the entryway. Ivan and Mylène were sauntering in wearing smiles as they exchanged pleasantries with animated hand gestures.

“And if she doesn’t come until during homeroom?”

“Then do it as we’re walking to our next class.”

He nodded and moved off the stairs to take his place, as she did the same. Max was already performing calculations at his desk and didn’t address the pair in his usual form. Instead, he sighed as the two instantaneously began confirming details about their scheme again the moment they sat down.

“Are you two still doing the Marinette and Adrien plan? Or was the probability of success too low for you to proceed?”

Alix leant her weight on the wall behind to stare hopelessly at the door Marinette had yet to stumble through during her mad flap. “We’re still doing it. And we’re sure it’s gonna work.”

Kim drew out his tablet and slid it on his desk. “We figured out the phases and stuff last night. We’re going straight for the homerun instead of gradually easing them to get together, since there’s been enough time for that. By the end of today, our mission as shipping superheroes will be complete!”

Alix pulled a face. “Superhero thing’s still weird.”

“Certain, huh?” Max pushed his glasses up with a forefinger, smirking sideways at Kim. “You’re sure your need of force will have the appropriate impact you want it to have on their relationship?”

“Well, yeah—”

Kim cut himself off when hearing a, “ _Gah_!” holler from nearby. He searched for the noise and was delighted to see the notorious sight of Marinette tripping headfirst through the doorway, only to catch herself in an odd position at the last minute.

He didn’t need Alix to tell him what to do next.

Whilst Kim ambled down the classroom’s staircase—attempting to do so as nonchalant as ever—he failed to see the way Marinette took one glance in Adrien’s direction and turned into a blue-headed fire hydrant, nor did he see how the model quickly resembled the same after his sight caught her.

When he headed to initiate phase one, he didn’t expect to see two furiously blushing teens in front of him.

Though the surprise wasn’t great enough to cloud Alix’s whispers of, “ _Go_.”

“Whoops!” Kim blurted as he frantically stumbled away from Marinette—the same Marinette who he had just ~~shoved~~ bumped on his way down the stairs, leaving her ‘unfortunately’ in the lap of a wide-eyed and pink as a pig Adrien Agreste.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Marinette.” He pressed a hand on his heart and looked at her earnestly for good measure. Alix’s wide grin behind him was almost palpable to sense. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Her awkward smile stretched beyond her crimson cheeks and her pupils were still frazzled. “Uh—um, it’s—it’s okay, Kim. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

Then, as if she’d just realised her position, Marinette gasped and flipping _leapt_ off of paralysed Adrien and faced him with one of the most mortified expressions he’d ever seen.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry Cha— _Adrien_! Adrien. The model. Yeah. That’s you!” She took a deep breath but it didn’t calm her. “I’m, uh—” It was only right to say she squeaked halfway through her sentence and bolted past him to her seat, while all Adrien could do was turn himself to stare stupidly at the front of the classroom.

Kim and Alix shared a victorious thumbs up across the room.

…

Phase two, in their opinion, went even better.

After a mad race of downing their food before even reaching their lunch table and finding their assigned idiot to corner, the pair had gained information only the class’s girls could _dream_ of having.

When Kim discovered Adrien tossing a popper in the trash during a mission to ask him about Marinette and his love life, he did _not_ expect a bottle of emotions to be flooded out to him during an extemporaneous therapy session.

“I love her—I _really_ do love her,” Adrien had blabbered on, raking a hand through his blond tresses as they sat in the corner of the cafeteria, “but I know she doesn’t love me.”

Kim could’ve sworn he heard Adrien mutter, “anymore…” under his breath a second later.

Alix’s situation went likewise, and she reported that Marinette almost said the _exact same_ _thing_ during their private talk under the stairs, confirming their un-doubtful suspicions that good-old mutual pinning was involved in their set-up plan.

During excited bubbles of laughter after the story exchange, they declared ‘phase three’ to commence.

…

Phase three was the last and furthermost challenging aspect of their scheme. The risks of getting detention or even loss of friends, they decided, were totally worth it for the high chance of progression in Marinette and Adrien’s intimacy levels.

The girls in the class had spent hours constructing plans to set the two up on dates that always ended up in failure. Kim and Alix studied the approaches and realised its failure was because of A: spontaneous akumas. B: the time it would’ve taken Adrien to figure out it wasn’t a ‘friend date’. And C: how both teens had the sovereignty to flee the set-up scene whenever they wanted.

Hence why _forcing_ Adrien and Marinette to be together without a chance to escape was to be the most successful idea.

In other words, locking them in empty room was the mission’s clincher.

…

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

Kim wiped his hands on his sweatpants to remove the imaginary lint, only glimpsing up to give Alix a smirk. “You better believe it. It was _your_ idea anyway.”

“My one-hundred-percent _joking_ idea.” She shot a nervous look to the boiler room’s door, barricaded with excessive amounts of stolen desks and chairs.

She could only hope her and Kim’s crouched place in the corner of the vacant hall was enough of a hiding spot for Adrien and Marinette not to hear their conversing. “How long are we giving them? The guilt’s eating me already.”

Kim rolled his eyes and shuffled up next to her. “There’s plenty of space in the boiler for them to sit twenty meters apart. It’s not like we went for the closet idea.”

Alix wondered if the closet idea would’ve even been easier. Luring Marinette to the boiler _(‘Oh, I accidently left my spray cans there. Can you please get them while I help Kim with this thing?’_ ) to leave her wandering on a wild goose-chase for invisible paint cans was difficult enough, but getting _Adrien_ to stay there—Alix was surprised he even bought Kim’s, ‘ _You wanna meet up in the boiler to talk more about your Marinette situation and stuff? Just a warning; the door sticks. But I’ll come anyway if that happens.’_

When they heard gasps of names inside the boiler after Adrien had stumbled in, Kim moved the desks to obstruct the door.

Alix hugged her knees. “That’s ‘cause our school doesn’t have a closet.”

“Whatever.” He tipped his head back to lean against the dim-lit wall. “Either they’re emotionally confessing to each other, trying to find a way to break the door, or making-out.” He slipped her a sidelong grin. “See? Nothing to feel guilty over.”

Her features pressed into a frown as she salvaged her phone from her shorts pocket. “You’re lucky Max prohibited me to punch you.” The illumination of her screen was a contrast to the dusky hall-light they’d been enduring for three minutes. She noticed she’d received two messages. “Nate’s in the art room for our free period. Everyone’s wondering where the art desks are.”

They simultaneously looked at the blockage items securing the boiler door’s lock.

“Um…” Kim trailed. “Say you and I are going for a hunt for them.”

“On it.”

…

Ten or so minutes past before Kim and Alix returned the desk and chairs to their original places, claiming they found them in the woodwork room (everyone bought it). The former revisited the boiler alone and burst out apologies to Adrien (‘ _Alix was helping me with this thing so I couldn’t come in time—by the way Marinette, she found her cans._ ’) to which Adrien responded positively; beaming at Kim with a ‘no worries’ and tightening his grip on Marinette’s hand as she discreetly wiped away—were those tears?

At Kim’s offer to continue talking about the Marinette problem, he was more than elated to hear the response: “ _We’ve worked it all out”_.

Alix was more than elated too.

…

“So they’re totally together? Like _together_ , together?” Alix practically squealed in question, trying to no avail to stifle her excitement as she bounced up and down on the school’s entry steps.

Kim stood with arms akimbo, smiling down at her. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “Operation: Shipping superheroes was a success.”

She halted her bouncing to shoot him a look. “You know, for someone who as an akumatized villain had the aim of destroying love, I find it quite ironic you claim to be a ‘set-up superhero’ for Marinette and Adrien.”

He frowned. “ _I_ couldn’t help it; Hawkmoth’s fault. Besides, I was a villain tearing apart Ladybug and Chat Noir. Now, I’m a hero setting up Marinette and Adrien—different position, _completely_ different people.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

He grinned and leant downward (goodness how she hated that) to be closer to her eyelevel. “Can you believe we actually did it, Kubdel? Like, _us_. _We_ were the ones who set up Marinette and Adrien. It was all our influence and doing.”

Alix chuckled and pushed his face away. “Gaining ten pounds from sugar in ginger beer and waking up with your quiff in my mouth was worth it.” She released a sigh of contentment. “The two idiots are _actually_ dati—”

She paused. Her eyes sparkled.

Kim gave her a questioning look. “What?”

“Does this mean we can do phase 4?”

His face dropped.

“ _No_.”

“Yes!”

“If you _dare_ —”

“Dare? Kim’s daring me to do something? Okay.”

He stepped forward. “Alix Kubdel you _know_ that is not what I meant—”

“La la la, I can’t hear you!” she sing-songed in an unnaturally high pitch, bouncing around him with hands pressed on her ears and smiling giddily. “My senses don’t register rubbish!”

He huffed and glared at her twirling figure. “You were totally joking with phase four. We are _not_ doing it.”

“Oh? Is that so?” she asked dubiously. “I thought I was totally joking with phase three, but we did that anyway. Guess we’re doing this too.”

Kim inhaled with frustration and tipped his head back, casting a defeated look to the sky. The girl was a nightmare.

“They’re gonna hate us forever.”

She retracted her hands from the sides of her head. “I’ll just mention what our plan did for them then. You could even speak at their wedding.”

Kim began to mutter something along the longs of, “ _Oh, so you heard that?_ ”, but Alix’s jovial yelp cut his grumbling to a close.

“There they are!”

He glanced in the direction of her outstretched finger, smirking instantly at the love-sickening sight he’d usually cringe at.

Adrien was ambling out of the school’s bulky entry doors, a smiling Marinette attached on the side by the wrap of his arm, both seeming to be submerged in a world of pure bliss.

The perfect couple, it looked like.

So of course Alix just _had_ to initiate phase four.

“Oi Agreste!” She cuffed her hands around her lips, and Kim was pretty sure his heart tripped out of existence at her bellow. “Hurry up and shove that tongue of yours in her mouth!”

To her astonishment and Kim’s—well to be fair his was more gaping _horror_ —Adrien smirked at the incongruous demand as Marinette let out an incredulous squawk. Then, not only that, but it was another stilling moment of silence before the girl was swooped in a bow with Agreste lips planted on hers.

... 

Kim and Alix walked out of school feeling like heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was 100% Kim and Alix's doing Adrinette became a thing. All on their influence. Nothing else happened. Nope.


	3. Day 3: Favourite Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim gets dared to kiss the girl he likes most in the class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like my favourite chapter tbh

Kim was notoriously known in his class as the ~~annoying~~ dare giver and taker. Every student had been given a stupid, impossible or just really random challenge at least three times during the school year, and even after a failed bet between him and Alix to get rid of them, he still continued his interest of turning any task into something that had a 20% chance of causing an akuma or a fire.

Which was why the cliché high school game, ‘truth or dare’, was one of his favourite things to play.

Gabriel Agreste had gone away for the weekend to meet some new clients (which was odd, as he hadn’t left the house since the disappearance of his wife, but it wasn’t like his own desertion was anything new to Adrien) and Nathalie—the dear—had allowed Adrien to do something her boss would’ve never allowed in a million years.

Invite all his male class members over for a sleepover.

Kim was included in this list, of course, and almost fainted when walking inside the model’s room with Max by his side. The gape shaping his mouth only enlarged when he saw there was an _upstairs_ too. There was just so much affluent stuff, and the place itself was so _big_ , and so _cool_ , and—

Was that a basketball hoop?

All the guys ended up coming, and spent around two or so hours playing with the array of drool-worthy equipment and video games come straight from a teenage-boy’s dream room. Adrien’s personal chef crafted various amounts of food for the kids to pig-out on and throw at each other—before they cleaned it up, obviously; Nathalie still set rules in place despite how languidly she assumed they were going to be followed.

It was after exchanging comfortable banter and watching a few favourite movies when Nino blurted out the suggestion of the game truth or dare—as an old-time joke, he assured.

Ivan shot down the idea as swiftly as it was spurred out, while the other boys—bar Kim, who was leaping with, ‘ _yes, yes, yes_!’—stayed quiet and pondered over the proposal. Eventually, a consensus of, ‘let’s do it for the laughs’ passed around even to Ivan, who probably only agreed to get Kim to stop nudging him.

When they played, Kim said dare _every_ time.

It wasn’t a surprise to his classmates, but it sure was a nerve.

It got to the point where they were struggling to think of any more dares for him. He’d climbed Adrien’s rock-wall drenched in cold water, completed twenty push-ups with hot source _sitting_ in his mouth, scoured the fireman’s pole blindfolded, stuffed his face with (too many) marshmallows in a chubby-bubby double-dare versing Nathaniel, put on everyone’s clothes and jumped out the window to take a stroll, then did it _again_ with Max (screaming) on his back, and finally: had to eat half of the smelly camembert that was in a random cupboard of Adrien’s. (Which everyone was too tired to question, and Kim hacking it up was too distracting anyway.)

The boys had voluntarily chosen ‘truths’ when being selected so their asker didn’t have to spend ten minutes thinking of any more dares. Kim didn’t get the memo. He still chose ‘dare’ every. time.

A chorus of groans rolled around when Kim responded to Nino with just that.

“Again?” Nino peered over his glasses unamused, his words heavy and tired. “Are you sure?”

Kim rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

The corners of Nino’s mouth curved upwards so scarcely it almost went unnoticed. “Yeah, I got one.” He shifted on his sleeping bag. “But are you _really_ sure?”

“ _Yes_.” He didn’t retract his eyes off him, but the other boys in the room shared nervous glances; having no idea what Nino was talking about.

“Alright then.” With a shrug, Nino sat up and crossed his legs, then pointed a warning finger. “But no backing down.”

He nodded. “No backing down.”

Nino’s subtle grin turned into a healthy smirk. “Okay, you asked for it. Tomorrow at school…” he paused, “you have to walk into class…” he grinned wider,

“…and kiss the girl you like most.”

A pause.

“What?”

The colour had drained from Kim’s face.

“You have to walk in tomorrow,” he recited purposeful slow, “and kiss whichever girl you like most. ‘Like’ being ‘ _like_ -like’.”

The was an uproar of laughter from the circle of boys.

Only Max had an identical expression to his best friend. “But—But he’ll get _slaughtered_!”

“ _Max_ ,” he hissed.

“Don’t worry, dude. We all know about Chloé.” Nino patted his shoulder in (poor) consolation. “Ever the more reason I’ve been saving the dare for your go.”

Kim glared at him. “You little—”

“I’ll tell Chloé to back off you later,” Adrien interjected. “If that’s any help?”

He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and groaned. He wasn’t really listening to any of them.

“Whatever,” Kim spat. “I’ll do it. But when I get a blackeye, you all owe me ointment.”

“Blackeye? More like a bloody cat-scratch,” Nathaniel chuckled. “I heard she got another manicure the other day; claws are sharp and ready.”

Kim only stared at him. “I hate all of yous.”

Markov flew out of a bag and hovered next to Max’s ear, whispering, “Should we tell them?”

Max only frowned as he watched Kim’s deflating figure. “No.”

…

Every boy walked into the classroom together the next morning, earning odd glances of those uninformed of the sleepover. Sabrina and Chloé were sitting in their usual seats, the front row, and Ivan even snickered when seeing Sabrina filing her friend’s nails. Marinette hadn’t arrived yet (how surprising) nor Mylène, so Alix was sitting atop her side of the table playing a game on her tablet.

Kim was the last to file in, chugging a weight of fear, nerves, annoyance and attitude on his back along with him. Not to mention a mound of existential thoughts.

Alya’s spine straightened when she saw Nino approach her with a grin. She beamed and headed to ask how the sleepover went, only to be silenced with a whisper,

“Get out your phone.”

She gave him an odd look, but pulled out her most cherished item nonetheless and slipped from her row to his side. “Why?”

“ _Shh!”_ he hissed, dramatically pressing his fingers to his lips (which was reciprocated with an eyeroll). “Kim has to kiss Chloé. I dared him to last night.”

She grinned and began filming. “ _Seriously_? Marinette’s gonna flip when she hears she missed _this_!”

“I know,” he chuckled, “the dude’s cray-cray for agreeing. No surprise if she calls her daddy-o on him.”

Alya zoomed in to where Kim was glancing nervously in Chloé and Sabrina’s direction. “You’re lucky I have storage on this thing.”

Despite everyone else’s amusement, Kim was _not_ finding anything about the forthcoming scene funny. Who found death funny? Or a million tons of embarrassment?

His sick-twisted friends, apparently.

No doubt about it he was walking out that classroom today with half his face still intact, possibly a suspension for sexual harassment, and zero dignity withheld to his name.

Maybe walking out _now_ seemed a better idea.

But he couldn’t. He was _Kim_. ‘Never ever in a gazillion years backing out of a challenge’ Kim.

Having Max be the only one who knew the extent of his current suffering was the slim source of his comfort in that moment. Didn’t change facts though, and Kim found walking up to the left side of the room harder than expected.

Looking Chloé in the eye on his way was even harder.

“You think he’s gonna chicken out?” He caught the sound of a whisper behind.

“Nah,” the gruff tone was probably owned by Ivan, “it’s _Kim_.”

He didn’t know if that made him more terrified or confident.

_One step, deep breath._

Even in his life-questioning stupor he could hear the encouragements of his (betraying) male classmates trying their really sucky best to whisper quietly. The unnerving destination wasn’t close enough yet, so he used every force of will in him to carry on—whatever will there was left.

His heart was arguing with his mind and his dignity and ego were feuding until Kim’s legs were torn on which direction he had to go.

What was one task? One dare the ever-so-amazing Kim had to do?

_One step, deep breath._

Chloé’s desk was _right there_ ; only a few shuffles from his suddenly-very-stubborn feet and he’d _be_ right there.

_Two steps, deep breath._

He stumbled closer—closer than he’d liked. Her blue (miraculously _gorgeous_ blue) eyes brushed his for a moment. It was enough to make his heart stop.

_Three steps—no too close. One step, deep breath._

He stood _right beside_ Chloé and Sabrina’s desk, (refunctioning) heart pounding a mile a minute.

One sentence in his head then screamed over the others to give him the final push he needed to stop stalling so that in the end, his heart and ego won.

**_Just do it._ **

And so he did:

He took another step.

_Deep, deep breaths._

His bag dropped. His hands _leapt_. He grabbed her face and yanked her towards him.

Her tablet clanked against the floor,

as Alix’s lips were smashed onto his.

…

The whole room fell silent.

 “What.”

Alya glanced at Nino, whose jaw was on the floor. “That wasn’t Chloé,” she said.

“Well no kidding it wasn—”

“I am _so_ sorry!” Kim through his panicked state bellowed in Alix’s absolute… how did you describe such a shocked expression as _that_?

He scratched the nape of his neck. “It—There was a dare Nino gave me at the sleepover and obviously I couldn’t say no ‘cause that’s just _wrong_ and I had to kiss the girl I liked most in the class and I’m just so _so_ sorry and I don’t know why I did that so dramatically but _please don’t punch me I’m too tired for this!_ ”

Everyone stared at him with comical appearances; features blown wide and words stolen out of them. Even _Chloé_ had gained attention (didn’t last long). Alix was undeniably the most-startled, staring also with dusted-pink under-toning her widened blue orbs.

“Good morning to you too.” A ghost of a smirk flitted past her lips.

Everyone was still most-definitely staring because _man_ , if you’d just witnessed _the_ Alix Kubdel get snogged by her rival without warning and have her say _that_ instead of shoving him out the window then you too would be looking at them longer than necessary.

Alix ignored the paralysed peanut gallery and took pity on Kim’s embarrassed state. “Wanna tell me more about this ‘dare’ involving ‘the girl you liked most in the class’ later?” A veil of amusement covered her tone. “And maybe I’ll consider not punching you.”

Kim gulped with blazing red cheeks, not knowing what else to do but retrieve his bag and her (thankfully not cracked) tablet, slinging the former on his back. “Uh—yeah. Yeah okay.” He darted past her like a bullet, a muttered, “Thanks,” thrown over the shoulder, while she only smiled and jumped off the desk to sit in her actual place.

Max, having witnessed everything retaining more knowledge than the others, sighed under his breath as Marinette ran into the door behind with a " _Gah!_ ".

“Maybe we _should’ve_ told them,” he murmured to Markov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will punch whoever thought I shipped Kim with Chloe.


	4. Day 4: Trophy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim's ultimate trophy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what else to do for this prompt.

The fact that Alix loved her skates wasn’t to be presumed as ‘simple’ knowledge to the classmates around her, like what the cafeteria served on Wednesdays or that Adrien was as dense as a fence (though that circumstance seemed to be climbing the scales recently).

They didn’t _just_ know she loved them, but were in constant reminder that Alix’s whole life was embedded with the wheels-on-shoes. Most things she was ever caught doing were to do with rollerblading, whether that was skating everywhere or going to the principal’s office _again_ for doing so in the hall, and her most fascinating stories involved a minimum of one roller-skating mention.

Every student was well-aware her own skates probably came before their friendship; so much so it wasn’t the phrase ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell’ that caused fed-up groans to rumble around the classroom from over-hearing, it was: ‘Alix sure loves her skates’.

(Well, it was second, statistically. Kim held the title with anything with the word ‘dare’ in it.)

(Third if you count, ‘She’s just a friend.’)

Alix bladed to school, bladed home, bladed to her classmates’ houses and _always_ withheld them in her school bag or locker (or somewhere else within a close radius) when they weren’t appropriate for use. If she went out—no matter the weather, unless of course if it was icy (because, duh, ice-skates)—her rollerblades would come along for the trip.

Although all her classmates knew this, one knew how deep her love ran more than others.

Kim.

Why? Because he was there on her sixth birthday when she’d unwrapped them with the widest caerulean eyes and euphoric smile, and he was there from then on when she _would not_ shut up about them. The rich passion and elation spoken about the last gift her mother ever bought her before passing started to pile into something Kim could only describe as fed-up annoyance, so it was justified to say a portion of him was happy when she’d outgrown that particular pair.

Until she got a new pair.

And another one after that.

The way she ranted about her ‘children’ (—Max and Kim’s mocking term; Alix’s dead-serious one) never failed to tick him off in a way that was so irreparably identical to the fumes that smouldered out her nose whenever he boasted about his latest accomplished dares ‘she’d never be able to emulate’.

Of course, they both knew the others’ dislikes towards their bestowments, and it was an—important—portion of their rivalry/kinship. Their banter about their mutual annoyances was friendly, stimulating, and furthermost, _repetitive_. It caused the whole class to express their annoyances towards the arguing duo, too.

 _“Can you two please stop fighting?”_ Mylène  whispered to Alix during class once while the rivals were feuding over what flavour of 2-minute-noodles were best, prompting the pinkette to have air leave her mouth instead of another obscenity at Kim. “ _It’s just… well, you’re very loud_.”

They both received a plethora of complaints all during the school year, but it was just so _them_ a day couldn’t go past without a jab at the other. Their ruckus was nothing eccentric towards the classroom. It even seemed a vital part of their class’s formulation, and so if someone told them to shush, they would—but only until the next argument.

He figured out from an early age that if he ever wanted to win… whatever was going on between them (because if there was anything with even the slightest insinuation of a _challenge_ , you bet your bucks Kim was doing it), he’d have to gain what he dubbed, ‘the trophy’.

Over the years from sporting events, races, swimming awards and much more, Kim had collected his fair share of trophies (which were on proud display in his room), but there was one trophy—one _impossibility_ he was never able to grasp. And to him, it was the only trophy that mattered.

Alix’s skates.

He knew he would never get her skates. That was the whole reason why he wanted them. Just thinking about it hit him with the trepidation that came from knowing when something was unreachable (reminder that this was: ‘I bet I could race a panther and win’ Kim), so it was no wonder it’d been years without the back-of-the-mind thought ever spurring to existence.

With the skates, he could have the power over what about her he found most annoying (that was from a big list, too). If she had power over his dares (though, how could she even do that?) he gave mostly to her, the same would go for Alix—a chance to gloat, and seemingly win their ‘feud’.

In some metaphorical way, owning what the other person loved the most would mean the ultimate win. One of Kim’s dreams was to have custom over her rollerblades just for the short glory (short because she was super rich and stuff and would buy another pair a week later). But he could never have them. She didn’t even let him _touch_ them. He gave up any idea to get them a long time ago.

Because, really, there was _no way_ he’d ever manage to get her skates—

“Let’s do a bet. You and me.”

Kim retracted his eyes off his burger to make sure she was serious.

“What?”

“I said _a bet,_ deafo,” Alix repeated, pulling her popper straw between her progressively-curving lips. “You just said before you could beat me running on foot while I’m on skates; I think you can’t.”

He put his burger on his cafeteria tray. “Um, I can though?” He looked at her like she was the dumbest thing on earth. “Besides, what would we even bet—”

“No dares for the rest of the school year.”

Surprise flooded his expression.

He opened his mouth in a partial gape and in case he remembered he could speak, but she kept going.

“The class and I were talking. They said I was the only way to get rid of your dares.” She took a purposely-long sip of her juice, holding her finger up at him so he wouldn’t speak. “And what you just said is the perfect way for me to get rid of your dumb challenges. Marinette’s even gonna make a banner.”

“Okay, first of all,” Kim pushed back his tray, lunch long forgotten, “ _I_ would win, as I just made before clear in impeccable detail—”

“Do you even know what impeccable means?” Max caught his attention, who was leant forward and peering past his glasses with his notorious Fed up™ hazed eyes.

Kim frowned. “Yes. _Me_.”

Both teens around him rolled their eyes.

“Anyways, before I was _interrupted_ I was talking about this bet. Where was I up to… oh! Second of all,” he raised a finger, “what do you mean you spoke to the _whole class_? I’m part of the _whole class_. That’s what we learnt in Math in like, grade three. How was I not there in your ‘discussion’?”

“I’ve talked to everyone about your dares individually.” She waved a dismissive hand. “They want them gone. So what do ya say? Race me at the Trocadaro?”

Kim hummed, pulling a thoughtful face. He _did_ want to race her. Racing was fun. Though the thought of _Alix_ placing the bet instead of him—since he tended to formulate them towards her—was perturbing. It also felt like there was something about the conversation they had missed.

 _Right_ , his brain recalled. _My prize_.

“And what about _my_ side of the bet?” He leant in. “What do _I_ get when you lose?”

Alix looked impatient. “Well, what do you want?”

It took Kim another ten seconds of thought (with Alix sighing in irritation near him) to answer her.

When the idea hit him—the absolutely, astonishingly _brilliant_ idea—Kim grinned the widest he could.

Only one gloating thought then ran through his mind;

_I’ve finally got her._

His eyes were even twinkling when Alix nudged him. “Oi, did you think of something?” 

He swerved his derisive gaze to her, and she almost gulped from the look.

The smugness in his tone tripled when he said,

“Your skates.”

…

Alix ended up agreeing after the argument of ‘ _You don’t even_ fit _my blades’_ and they had the race on her birthday. Alix won, got akumatized, and everyone forgot about it.

Kim never ended up getting his trophy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, big-athlete-jock-'my neck's bigger than your thigh' Kim /cannot/ fit into tiny Alix's skates. There's no way. So why does he 'get them' if he wins the race in timebreaker? What's he gonna use them for!? I wrote this 'cause it bugged me so much.


	5. Day 5: Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what else to do so I kind of improvised while I wrote and it's v obvious

Kim did not like Valentine’s Day.

Or rather, he did not like his “Most embarrassing moment/Akumatization” anniversary.

He couldn’t walk outside his house during the love month known as feted February without having his eyes assaulted from the hearts and the pinks and the reds and the _ugh_.

It ticked off bad memories. _Scarring_ memories. Memories he couldn’t even gain access to ‘cause hey, the fact that you weren’t in-control of your body during your akumatization was a thing and it was a bum.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had apparently _kissed_ from _his_ _doing_ and he had _missed_ _it_ because he couldn’t. remember. anything.

So yeah, cheers Hawkmoth.

And Chloé.

_Stuff Chloé._

The number of Parisians (mostly Marinette) who had said that line varyingly just in the past week were too many to even replace the items of a hive-mother’s shopping list, _plus_ the things she forgot to write. (Which, all up, was a lot.)

Chloé didn’t care. She didn’t care she had ripped Kim’s heart out and shattered it against the ligneous Pont des Arts bridge to sway away chortling in that jeering, uncanny-type laugh that sounded as natural as her makeup-caked face.

And if you’d ask Kim (fanatical athlete, dare-extremist, immaculately handsome Kim) if he cared either, he’d say no.

He’d also be a liar.

Because as he waltzed into his mingling classroom early and disgruntled, he couldn’t stop the sick feeling that smacked his gut when seeing Chloé laughing as Sabrina read out her pile ( _plie_!) of Valentines cards.

 _Guess I wasn’t the only doofus who thought Chloé had a good side_.

“Hey Kim!”

He searched the voice and saw a beaming Marinette standing up in her desk, waving a welcoming hand while the other held some object he couldn’t care to regard.

“Oh, morning Marinette,” Kim muttered more-so than replied equally as chipper. He assumed no continuation of the greeting would transpire, and tightened the grip on his schoolbag to head on to his own desk, not registering the way his head sagged, nor eyes return sullen.

“Wait—” she slid out her row, halting him on his promenade, “—I have something for you. I don’t want you to hate Valentine’s Day because of last year.”

Kim glimpsed at what was outstretched in front of him, and his eyes widened in beguiling surprise.

A smile splashed his lips as he stared at a mini Dark Cupid holding a two-inch bow.

“Wh— _This_?!” He cuffed the adorably tiny plush and brought it closer to his sight. “You—You made this?!”

“Yep!” She pointed to the hand-crafted doll. “A miniature-version of Dark Cupid—the fastest akuma out there. I hoped you would like it.”

Kim’s gleeful grin stretched wider examining just _how cool_ a teeny-tiny version of himself was. The stitching was so intricate and the colours were perfectly matched and the wings were flipping sick and the _eyes_ —

Oh _goodness,_ minuscule Kim was adorable.

Marinette placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about Chloé. What she did last year was totally uncool, but don’t let bad memories ruin Valentine’s Day forever for you. It’s about spreading love, and you have great friends who care about you!”

Kim had never smiled so brightly.

“Thank you!” He grabbed her in an abrupt hug, and she let out a noise of surprise. “Thank you so much, Marinette! It’s amazing!”

She pulled back and returned his smile. “No problem.” He watched her return to her aisle and take her seat beside Alya. “Just no more frowning today, promise?”

He nodded hastily. “I promise.”

…

And he never frowned.

Not for the whole day.

And at the end of the day, his Dark Cupid doll was set atop his trophy shelf the minute he got home. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t _too_ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette would totally do this.


	6. Day 6: Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of what Kim and Markov's relationship would be

“Where exactly are we going?”

Kim shot a side-long smirk at the high-teched robot flying behind him, furthering the adjustment of the blue towel slung over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise, Markov,” he said with little repression of his excitement. “But we’re gonna have heaps of fun.”

“Max didn’t program me with the ability to predict surprises.”

Kim pushed on the swinging entryway door to let himself and Markov slip through the threshold. “That’s because you’re not _supposed_ to predict surprises.”

He looked thoughtful. “Max said to be careful of your surprises.”

Kim tossed the swimming bag in his grasp under a nearby bench and sighed. Max had told him to do a _fun_ activity with his robot while he went to his Math competition thing, and yet warned Markov to be careful of his _always fun_ surprises? Rude.

He commenced into his stretching-routine without facing him and murmured, “He was probably talking about Alix.”

Markov’s digital eyes pixilated into question marks as he hovered beside Kim. “But there’s a zero-percent chance of that? I can remember and record every conversation my microphone picks up. Would you like me to play Max saying to be cautious of what your surprises actually involve?”

He froze stretching his arms and held back a groan.

The robot had been away from his creator _ten_ minutes and already he wouldn’t stop talking about him.

“No, it’s fine,” he assured though his teeth. “But you don’t have to take everything that Max says seriously.”

“Max is my best friend. He set my rules and fills me with knowledge I cannot gain myself.”

“Max isn’t _here_ now,” Kim leered as he whipped off his hoodie and stretched his cap on. “Don’t worry about anything he’s said about me. You finally get to have some fun with your favourite uncle Kim!”

Markov observed him with scepticism as he slid into the empty community pool beside their standing point. “Are we going to time your laps?”

“Nope. Today isn’t even one of my swimming days, that’s why Ondine isn’t here.” He folded his arms atop the gravel pool edge and peered up at Markov. “I’m going to teach you how to swim.”

He stared. “Swim?”

“Yep! Don’t worry though, you don’t have to get in the water. It’s always nerve-racking the first time, so you can watch me from the edge.”

 Markov stayed silent as he hovered above a bench. Kim began to tread water and outstretched his arms over his head.

“This one’s called freestyle. It’s not actually a free style, because you have to do it in a particular way. You kick your feet with ballerina toes while your stroke looks like this.” His uplifted arms moved in un-sync windmill motions.

The robot still looked confused. “The only stroke I’ve ever heard of is the one related to brain failure.” He made a gasping noise. “Your brain isn’t failing, is it Kim?! Alix _can’t_ be right!” he bellowed indignantly. “Marinette said she was joking! You’re not dying, are you?! Oh no, Max would be so angry with me if I let you die while you’re babysitting me!”

Kim’s arms deflated to melt in the water. “Uh—no, I’m not… dying?” He shook his head. “That’s a different type of stroke. This type of stroke is one that swimmers do. There’s a few I can teach you. Like breaststroke.”

“Is that the ‘frog’ one you mentioned while Paris was flooded?”

“Yes!” He overlay his arms across the water and pushed them outwards, formulating ripples. “This is what your arms do, except out in front of your head while you’re swimming since you’re face-down in the water. Your legs move like a frog.”

“I have very interesting facts about frogs in my memory-drive,” Markov spoke with gestures of his mechanical hand. “Nathaniel showed me one in real life. I thought it was very fascinating, and then Alix placed it on me. I had such a fright one of my wires short-circuited.”

Kim blinked at him, before waving it off. “Well, I told you I was better than Alix. You’re lucky you weren’t stuck with her for today.”

As he morphed into a different position to begin backstroke, Markov halted his swimming when exclaiming, “Actually, Max intended to hand me to her for today.”

Kim arched himself upright and creased his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Alix was too busy helping her dad with something to take care of me today, so Max called you. He was hesitant because of the last ice cream incident.”

He couldn’t hide his frown. “Max trusted _Alix_ more than _me_?”

“Well Marinette was another option but—”

 ** _Ping_**.

Markov flew to the bag beneath the bench he was hovering over. “That sounded like your phone.”

“Can you check it please?”

He used his claw-like hand to unzip the swimming bag and rummaged for the requested object. He raised it out and read the alighted screen. “Max is wondering how we are doing.”

Kim swum to the pool’s edge. “Um… say we’re going good, but don’t give him the idea of where we are.”

Markov beamed and nodded. “Got it.”

A thin, metallic pointer opened from his chest so he could type the answer on the phone. After a few taps were made, Markov secured the phone back in the swimming bag and returned his hovered position over the bench.

“Are you ready for the next demonstration?” Kim locked his hands upon the edge’s grip and hoisted himself out of the pool. “Because this is the funnest one.”

“Do you mean the most fun?”

Kim stood and flicked a few droplets away. “Sure.”

“If you are showing me a swimming technique, then why are you not _in_ the water?”

His lips curved into his famed grin. “That’s because I will be.” He took a few steps away from Markov, and swivelled to face the pool. His heals dug into the gravel while his toes fell over the edge.

Markov watched Kim squat before raising his arms into a pencil pose and leaping in.

A gush of water soared at the contact to make a circular wave around where Kim had jumped.  It looked incredible, the robot decided.

“That’s—” Kim gasped as his head emerged from the water, “—what a dive is. It’s my favourite thing to do in swimming. I could teach you how to do it, too.”

Markov was buzzing with excitement. He had never seen such fun involved with the water before, and he found himself willing to perform the same trick that Kim did instantly.

“Yes! I would love that.”

Kim smiled and raised himself out of the pool again.

“Okay, so first of all you’re going to come to the edge and—”

“ ** _KIM_**!”

Through the swirl of surprise Kim almost tipped himself backwards into the pool if he hadn’t caught himself at the last second.

With blown eyes he flashed to the sound and was undoubtedly even _more_ stunned to see Max standing at the entryway looking a way Kim had never seen him.

Very, _very_ angry.

“Are you _trying_ to kill Markov?!”

Kim contemplated that maybe ‘accidently’ falling into the pool wasn’t such a bad idea after all as his friend surged towards him.

“Wh— _How_?!” Kim stared at him in the ridiculousness scenario, trying to comprehend if it was real or not. “Why are you here?!”

Instantaneously—as though he had been anticipating the question—Max held up his phone displaying a series of text messages.

“‘We’re going good’,” Max read off the screen. “‘One-hundred-percent _not_ at the pool learning to swim. Don’t get the idea, please. Lots of love, Kim’.”

A wave of realisation washed over him.

Kim looked at Markov accusingly.

“I said _don’t_ make it sound like we’re at the pool!”

The robot’s eyes pixelated into exclamation marks. “I told Max that we weren’t here! Just like you said.”

Kim sighed and brought his hand up to his face.

Max was glaring at the swimming-truck clad teen like his life depended on it. “You’re lucky they postponed the competition for an hour, or I wouldn’t have been able to come.” He shoved his phone in his pocket and stomped further up to Kim. “You _do_ realise if Markov went in the water that he would malfunction _and electrocute you_?!”

Kim tipped his head back and groaned as if he were a child scolded by a parent. “I wasn’t going to let him get _in_ the water,” he whined. “Just above it. To follow my lead.”

Max stared at him doubtfully.

“I was just about to teach him how to dive! —In the air of course. We were having so much fun!” Kim tossed a smile to Markov and patted his head. “He loves his uncle Kim.”

Max sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to fend off a headache.

“I think Alix will be receiving full-custody of babysitting duties after this.”


	7. Day 7: Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!! ('Bout flipping time)

_Wow_ , was the only word that sprinted up Kim’s train of thought as he moseyed into the reception area, eyeing the cacophony of personified colours around him. There were green and black decorated tables, then black and red ones dividing them.

The sight looked more expensive than the wedding itself.

 _Marinette and Adrien sure picked an interesting theme_.

In high school, Kim wouldn’t’ve be able tell you he’d be walking into the pair’s wedding reception ten years later after still being in touch—and very good friends—with all his classmates.

“This dress is so annoying.”

He’d also couldn’t tell you he’d have _that_ particular detail tagging behind him.

“You’ve told me. Like five times,” Kim grumbled, shooting a warning look. “Shut up. Marinette made that dress for you and you should be honoured to be one of her bridesmaids.”

Alix tipped her head back as she trudged against the crowd searching for their named tables. “Okay, _mum_.” She glared, and he turned his head forward to give the illusion he didn’t see it. “Have you found our seats yet? I can’t see anything over your massive head.”

“You can’t see anything over _anyone’s_ heads,” Kim said absently, ignoring the kick that came to his foot. “Found it! There. In the corner with Max and Ivan. We have a Chat Noir table.”

“Nice. It can match my dress.”

“Can you stop being sarcastic for like, three seconds?” Alix glanced down and scowled at the floor. “I know you loved the ceremony, don’t try to hide it.”

“I did not,” she snapped. “It was romantic and gross.”

“Oh? Then what was running down your cheeks during the vows as you stood with the other bridesmaids?”

Alix shot her narrowed view away from his smirking figure again as crimson tramped her cheeks. “My eyes were sweating. The lights were bright.” He didn’t dignify her with a response. “Why were looking at me during the vows anyway!? You should’ve been watching Marinette and Adrien with the groomsmen!”

Kim cast a defeated look at the affluent ceiling and exhaled. “What a girlfriend I got stuck with.”

“Are we there yet? I’ve almost face-planted ten times from these heels.”

“ _Alix_ ,” he said imploringly, “they aren’t heels. We’ve been over this.” He grabbed her hand and slid past a few couples. “Your feet aren’t big enough. Those are _kitten_ heels.”

“Heels or heels. I don’t see the difference. I know my ankle’s just about rubbed off—ah!” The gasp of joy she let out made Kim trip on the air. “Nathaniel!”

Without another word his smart-mouthed girlfriend raced from his grasp and pulled a daydreaming, very unexpecting, Nathaniel Kurtzberg into a hug with her tiny figure. She'd seen him earlier, but they didn't have the opportunity to talk much at the wedding.

Kim smiled and finished the few steps to his table. Max and Ivan paused their conversation to wave him over and exchange bro hugs, despite seeing each other two hours ago at the ceremony.

“Nice theme they have, don’t they?” Mylène trotted over and handed her husband his drink. “I thought the Chat Noir bridesmaids and Ladybug groomsmen were it, but this is _astonishing_.”

Kim glanced around to admire the obvious theme again. “I didn’t realise Marinette and Adrien had such a liking towards the heroes, but the idea is very clever.”

“At least Hawk Moth isn’t here anymore to ruin their wedding,” Max mused as he adjusted his spectacles and pulled out a seat for Kim to sit. “I wonder if the civilian forms of Ladybug and Chat Noir have gotten married yet. They don’t reveal much to the public anymore during their enforcement of helping other crimes.”

“They totally have.” Ivan brought his lemon-lime-bitters to his lips. “You see the way they look at each other on the news. Mylène and I have that look. But I don’t think they’ll be announcing their marriage any time soon—”

“Please welcome the newlyweds, Marinette and Adrien, as they enter the reception room,” a loudspeaker cut through his words, the static voice sounding very similar to an amused Alya. Ivan took a glance at the blushing couple sauntering through the archway and chuckled.

“Alya and Nino really went all out planning the wedding.”

Kim hummed in agreement and toyed with his ladybug cufflinks. “I heard there’s gonna be an announcement after the dance. Like a big one. Marinette and Adrien have something to tell us, apparently.”

Max looked thoughtful as he fixed out his green napkin’s creases. “Where did you hear this?”

“Alix picked it up from the Bachelorette party. Marinette hinted it to the girls.”

Mylène’s abrupt laugh caught the boys’ attention. They turned to her with confused stares.

“It also said it in the invitations. Did you guys not see?”

“Uh… No?” Ivan settled his glass down. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m sure whatever announcement they have won’t be too big of a surprise to shock the whole reception room. Those two were the worst at keeping secrets in high school.”

Collective hums and nods went around as they glanced at the couple.

Kim laughed. “You got that right.”


End file.
